Page 92 of Attempted Compromises
Elizabeth’s lips curved into a small, triumphant smile of her own. “And I assure you, I have no intention of letting him go,” she said, her tone crisp and resolute. “I really must thank you, Mrs. Wickham, for the part you played in bringing us together. Truly, it has turned out to be the greatest satisfaction of my life to be the wife of Mr. Darcy.”
She turned to her sister, sobbing. “Louisa, please! Help me! For the love of a sister—”
Louisa Hurst, her expression cold and resolute, looked down at Caroline with disdain. “I hope they hang you for it,” Louisa said coldly, turning her back as the footmen dragged Caroline from the room.
Caroline’s wails echoed down the corridor as the footmen carried her away, fading into silence. The room remained still, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on those who remained. Darcy stepped closer to Elizabeth, his hand brushing against hers in a brief, grounding touch.
“She is gone. It’s over,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with exhaustion. “For now.”
Elizabeth nodded, drawing a deep breath as she met his gaze. “And we are still here. Together.”
Darcy’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, a flicker of warmth breaking through the storm. “Yes, Elizabeth,” he said softly. “Together.”
Chapter 26
The remainder of the evening was nothing short of exhausting; a grim duty, filled with a whirlwind of interviews, arrangements, and lingering tension. Food was brought into the parlor on a tray—the cold remnants of dinner long forgotten—as Sir William Lucas, Colonel Forster, and Mr. Bennet soon arrived. The air was tense, and the warmth of the fire did little to ease the chill that lingered.
Sir William, always affable but visibly uncomfortable, seated himself with a heavy sigh. “This is a dreadful business,” he muttered, his brow furrowed deeply. “I can scarcely believe a lady could behave in such a way, especially one who has been a guest in my home on so many occasions.”
Colonel Forster was far less sympathetic. He stood rigidly, his face impassive as he responded. “Wickham will be charged with desertion and theft. During wartime, the penalty for such crimes is death, and there’s no question of his guilt. His wife, however, is out of my hands and is left to you, Sir William.”
Darcy, standing near the hearth, nodded grimly but said nothing. His eyes were dark with suppressed anger, the tension in his posture still evident despite the calming presence of Elizabeth at his side.
“I could give her mercy,” Sir William said, direction his words to Bingley, “out of respect to your family and the friendship we have all enjoyed these last months.”
Louisa rose abruptly from her seat, her voice shaking with fury. “I quite disagree. Caroline deserves to hang just as much as her husband, if not more so! She’s a murderer, and she deserves to suffer for the pain she caused.”
Elizabeth hesitated before speaking, her voice quiet but firm. “Mrs. Hurst, as understandable as your feelings are, you may wish to reconsider.”
Louisa turned a scathing look on her, her tone biting. “And what would you suggest, Mrs. Darcy? That we invite her back into our lives with open arms?”
“The scandal of a murderer in the family is worse than any we have so far weathered,” Elizabeth said calmly.
“Are you suggesting we let her off?”
“No. But what if she were exiled, instead? Banished to the penal colonies? She would be stripped of her status and face a life of hardship. It would be a punishment fitting her crimes, without bringing more shame upon us. It could be said that she eloped with a foreign minister and has left the country.”
Louisa let out a bitter laugh. “You mean, let her live? Give her leniency? That man—” she gestured towards Sir William— “speaks of mercy as though Caroline was some innocent fool. She isn’t. She made the choice to add laudanum to the tea. She killed my husband, and she could very well have caused harm to my child.”
Elizabeth’s composure remained unshaken. “Picture it, Mrs. Hurst. She would be utterly alone, stripped of every comfort and privilege she has ever known. Imagine her boarding a convict ship with no finery, no allies, and no hope of returning to the society she so desperately craves. Life in the colonies is harsh—she would have no servants, no resources, and no means of manipulating her way to safety. She would spend her life laboring under the sun, surrounded by the roughest elements of humanity.” She paused for a moment, her voice low. “And she would do so knowing she will never set foot on British soil again. For Caroline Bingley, that is a fate worse than death. That is justice.”
Louisa faltered, her expression flickering with uncertainty as Elizabeth continued. “It would spare her life while ensuring she pays the price for her actions. When your anger cools as time passes, you may regret demanding your sister’s death.”
Caroline’s protests, muffled by the walls and distance, could faintly be heard as the footmen dealt with her elsewhere. Louisa’s lips pressed into a thin line, her anger battling against the vivid image Elizabeth had painted. “I want her to suffer,” she said bitterly. “I want her to feel the same pain I felt when I lost him.”
Darcy joined the conversation. “It’s a fate few would endure, Mrs. Hurst. And it would bring closure to this ordeal without further bloodshed or scandal, which could ruin us all.”
Louisa’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away, her arms crossed tightly. “I suppose,” she muttered begrudgingly, “it’s fitting enough.”
Colonel Forster, who had remained silent during the exchange, nodded. “I can arrange for her transportation. With the severity of her crimes, it would not be difficult.”
Louisa looked between them, her anger slowly giving way to resignation. “Fine,” she said at last, her voice cold. “Send her to the colonies. Let her rot there.”
With the arrangements finalized, the officials departed, leaving the household to settle for the night. Mr. Bennet paused to address Elizabeth. He placed a large, comforting hand on her shoulder, he said, “Your aunt and uncle Gardiner will be here in a few days,” he reminded her, his expression softening. “I trust their company will bring you some much-needed peace after all this.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, though her fatigue was evident. “Thank you, Papa. I’ll be glad to see them.”
As the night drew to a close, the household finally began to retire. Darcy made his rounds, first stopping at Georgiana’s room. She greeted him with a shy but steady smile, her voice brimming with newfound confidence. “It was difficult,” she admitted, “but I’m proud I stood up to him. For the first time, I feel… free.”
